


Cloudy

by cadenzamuse



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: F/M, Juvenilia, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-02-10
Updated: 2005-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-02 19:58:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1060983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadenzamuse/pseuds/cadenzamuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Logan?" "Yes, dear?" (A slap, hollow-sounding in his chest-a laugh, as he tightens his fingers against her shoulder-a sudden lump in his throat [love, and gratitude], as she burrows herself into his side.) Rory/Logan. One-shot. Diabetic-safe fluff.  Re-posted from fanfiction.net.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cloudy

**Author's Note:**

> **Author:** Cadenza at Midnight (me!)  
>  **Rating:** PG? situationally, PG-13. But it's very vague...  
>  **Pairing:** Rory/Logan  
>  **Disclaimer:** ASP != me. Me != made of money. This fic != anything but fun. You != going to sue.  
>  **Author's Note:** Written for Becka, mine lovely beta. May she live long and...umm...yeah. *grin* Betaed by Becka and Robin, who rock the house. (And I don't need a beta now! points to lovely wonderful  
>  betas) And I swear, it came straight from the muse; I didn't have anything to do with it...

"Logan?"

"Yes, dear?"

(A slap, hollow-sounding in his chest--a laugh, as he tightens his fingers against her shoulder--a sudden lump in his throat [love, and gratitude], as she burrows herself into his side.)

"What was that for?"

(A chuckle, in the words, that she feels in her ribs.)

"I'm not going to be 'yes, dear'-ed. I look much better in skirts than in those pants."

"Hey, I don't look that great in clown pants either! I'm a double-oh-seven kind of guy."

"If you stick a hoola-hoop in them, clown pants work for two...hey! No 'yes, dear'ing. No distracting me from subjects."

"No, dear."

(A sudden flurry of movement-small noises-then a satisfied "hmm" and ragged breath that slowly subsides into soft inhalation.)

(A pause.)

"Logan?"

"Mmmm?"

"Why don't you like your father?"

"Ace, I love my father very much. I happen to not want to discuss him right now with you, however...I can think of several things I'd rather be doing..."

(A small smack against the underside of his jaw.)

"Mmm...no, really, why don't you want to go into the newspaper business? It's not like it's a terrible job, and you write brilliantly...your father wants the best for you."

(Under her hands, an instantly rigid body.)

"Ace, you know, I _really_ don't want to talk about this..."

(Warmth and friction in slow, lazy circles on his chest. Silence. A groan.)

"Hey. I'm on your side. I'm _totally_ on your side."

(More silence--a trail of heat and pressure up the side of his neck--a familiar weight on his chest.)

(A sigh.)

"I don't want...my dad wants a lot of good things. But I don't want to be my father. I don't want to be tied down. I don't...it wouldn't be fun anymore. I'd be another one of those damn Huntzbergers, trapped in the business, going to boring parties to get drunk and discuss stock options."

(Arms stretched around him, and peace. ...and weight.)

"Gilmore, you weigh a ton. What have you been eating?"

(A pause.)

"Do you really want me to answer that? ...and, on principle: I do not!"

"Debating skills eclipsed by my illustrious presence? Aww, do I make you weak in the knees, Ace?"

(Barest hesitation, then a tightening of arms around him.)

"Yes."

(A groan--a chuckle.)

"Yes, you insufferable, arrogant, infantile, flirting, _wonderful_ idiot. Yes, you make me weak in the knees."

(A long, long quiet, punctuated by movement and human noise. Finally, slow breaths.)

"Logan?"

"Yes, dear?"

(A chuckle-a murmur.)

"I love you."

(A kiss, and a slow, spreading warmth.)

"I know, Rory, I know."

(A pause, then the sharp pain of bone and toenails in his shin.)

(A snort.)

"Slave-driver! Pants-wearer!"

(Another kick.)

"Aughaaaaugh..." (A shift.) "I love you."

(Two laughs.)

(A catch of breath, a certain tingling in the fingertips.)


End file.
